In the End
by Contention
Summary: George tries to find "F," whilst Harry and Severus experience life after death. Perhaps Death really is simply a new beginning.
1. Prologue

Harry knew there was only one way he was going to kill Voldemort once and for all, and this was his last chance to do it.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry ran straight at the Dark Lord, death the only thing left on his mind.

The world slowed down to witness the end of a terrifying era.

Ron Weasley ducked to avoid a Cruciatus curse and absently fired a counter attack at his enemy before turning quickly to his friend, knowing he would never make it in time to help. His eyes turned to Hermione's as they shared a sad moment of understanding before returning to the battle, struggling to keep their tears from blocking their vision, their pain fueling their resolve to end it all now.

Professor McGonagall stood upon a dias, ordering her stone soldiers into the fray when she saw her student rush towards the very evil she had been fighting almost her entire life. Her lips pursed in worry, but she knew as well as he that there was no other way. Her eyes closed just long enough to pray for Harry's soul. Her heart hardened to protect the missing piece of herself that left with the boy as she turned to address her newest attacker, a scream of frustration leaving her lips as she cursed him into oblivion.

Neville Longbottom shoved Luna out of the way of a particularly nasty hex and retaliated before noticing his house mate rushing at his enemy. The two students were the closest to Harry, but still nowhere near close enough to help. Instead, they put their anger and tears into every spell, keeping everyone else away from the two combatants as well. If anyone could end this, it would be Harry. They had to have faith.

Harry finally made contact with his assailant. Using his own weight and acceleration, he threw himself into Voldemort's body and sent them both careening off of the broken bridge to Hogwarts. As the two fell to their deaths, Harry's mind began to wander.

He thought about his relatives. His cousin Dudley had to grow up too fast as he came into contact with Harry's world. He silently apologized to the young man, as well as his aunt and uncle, but they became better people for it, after all. He knew they would be ok.

The faces of each of his classmates crossed his mind as well. Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, Dean, Seamus, Cho; so many others. They would be alright now. They would be safe.

He thought of his professors. Professor Flitwick would be so proud of the beautiful charm work he did whilst he was on the run. Professor McGonagall would probably say he could have been more proficient, but he knew that she'd have a grin and a wink as well. Madam Hooch won't have to worry about anyone ruining her brooms or eating her snitches anymore. He'd miss Hagrid and his crazy creatures, but at least Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be on constant alert to regrow his bones or unpetrify people because of him. Hopefully they won't have too many injuries to heal from the battle.

He thought about those who have preceded him in death. He would finally get to see his parents, to hug them, touch them, tell them how he feels. He'd see Sirius again. He'd get to apologize for his childish mistakes and rash decisions and thank him for everything he's done. He would make sure to thank Cedric Diggory for saving his life that night in the graveyard. He might not have been alive if not for him. He'll see Dumbledore again. He's really missed that mischievous twinkle. Maybe they could share a bag of lemon drops. Will there be food in Heaven? He hoped so, he was starving. How long had it been since he'd eaten?

As if against his will, his thoughts shifted to Professor Snape. Seeing his old professor's face in his mind made his heart feel heavy. His death was still so fresh. It was the first time he had ever actually touched the man, and even so close to death, he had been so warm and full of life. He had never seen his professor cry before. Maybe that's when his heart had softened. Softened...Professor Snape's hair was much softer than he would have thought. Everyone always called it greasy, but apart from some dust from the shack and blood from...well. Harry didn't want that to be his last thought.

The ground was rushing toward him. What did he want his last thought to be? Surely not the snarling face of Voldemort that he saw falling through the world beside him. No. He would die with a smile on his face. He closed his eyes and brought up the images of everyone he had ever loved, who had ever loved him. His heart froze in shock as he saw Snape's smiling face amongst them, and he couldn't stop the name from leaving his lips as his body hit the rocks below: Severus.


	2. Chapter 1

"What seems to be the problem, Ms. Weasley?"

"It's nothing important, Madam Pomfrey. I only fell off my broom."

Harry flinched slightly at the sound of his friends' voices, but he couldn't seem to move more than that. What was going on? Where was he?

"Again? As Madam Hooch's apprentice, you really should be more careful! I swear child, you're as accident prone as Mr. Potter, here."

Mr. Potter? She meant him. He was...Harry Potter...yes. That was definitely his name, but what was he doing here?

Silence rang in the air around his body, making him think he had been left alone, until someone finally spoke up.

"Harry...how's he doing?"

Harry's ears perked up at his name. Yes, he was definitely Harry. He remembered that much.

"No change, yet, but he's stable."

Stable? So...he's alive? His heart began to beat rapidly at the realization, but not because he was excited to be alive. What happened to Voldemort? If Harry was still alive, did that mean he was as well?

"You'll tell me if anything changes?"

"Of course Ms. Weasley. Here, take this potion and you'll be right as rain. Now, off with you! Visiting hours are over for the day."

"Yes, Madam."

Harry listened to his friend's footsteps recede as Madam Pomfrey adjusted the blankets around him. So, he could still feel his body. That's good. He experimented moving his toes, and only just managed to do so. The Medi-witch didn't seem to notice his effort, as her footsteps soon vanished into the distance as well, leaving him presumably alone once again. With nothing else to do with his time, Harry decided to dedicate himself to regaining movement.

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After what seemed like hours of self-rehabilitation – in which he has since managed to bend one of his toes completely-, Harry once again heard voices approaching his bed.

"Hey, Harry! It's us!"

"Hey, mate..."

Hermione! Ron! He'd recognize those voices anywhere, and boy was he glad to hear them.

"We just thought we'd come and check up on you." It was obvious Hermione was trying her best to sound positive, but Harry could hear the worry in her voice. "Madam Pomfrey says you're doing really well...I only wish...well..."

"Hurry up and wake up, mate!"

"Ron!"

Harry laughed internally as he heard the smack of Hermione's hand make contact with what must have been Ron's leg. "Ow! What was that for, Hermione?!"

"You're always so crass!"

"Well, you want him to wake up too, don't you!?"

"Of course I do!"

"Besides, it's not like he can hear us..."

"He can. I know he can!"

Harry wanted to smile at Hermione's positivity What would he have ever done without her?

"Anyway," She continued. "We came to update you again, Harry. Ron and I finally decided on a date for our wedding." Wedding?! His friends are getting married? He can't even remember them ever confessing to one another! "Originally, we wanted to wait until you woke up...but..."

"We can't wait, forever, mate." _Smack! "Ow!"_

 _"Anyway!_ We'll be getting married on the thirtieth of October. I know it's only a few weeks away, but Mrs. Weasley has been very adamant we get it done soon so that she could have...erm...grandchildren..."

Harry could hear the embarrassment in his friend's voice. He was pretty sure Ron would be red head to toe as well...wait a minute... _October?! A few weeks away?!_ How long has he been out for?!

"Let's see, what else have you missed lately..." Harry listened very carefully, hoping to find out more. "Headmaster McGonagall still hasn't found anyone to replace herself as Head of Gryffindor. I told her I would fill in for her until she could find someone, but I can't stay forever..."

"Tell him about George!"

"Why can't you tell him?"

"Go on!"

"Alright! Goodness, Ron, I swear sometimes you can be such a child!" Harry heard shuffling as she turned back to address his silent body once again. "George has gotten orders from all kinds of places, Harry. Not just here in Scotland and England, but from Ireland, Egypt, and even-"

"He's gotten requests from the States, mate! Can you believe it? Fred would be so proud!"

Fred would be proud? He must have retired or something. Maybe he got married as well...Harry sure was missing a lot.

"Oh, and Neville and Luna say hi as well, Harry. They said they would be by to see you before the wedding. Their tour in China should be over soon." Hermione patted Harry's comatose leg in comfort.

"Can you believe they _actually_ got proof that Snarblasts exist? I always thought Luna was missing a few pieces, if you know what I mean!"

"Ronald Weasley!"

"I'm only saying!"

"Well, we'd better be going, Harry. Mrs. Weasley will have dinner ready soon, and she'll be cross if we're late again." He felt her plant a small, chaste kiss on his cheek as she rose. "Please wake up soon..." She whispered, before leaving with her fiance'.

With new determination, Harry worked on moving his fingers. He _would_ make that wedding. No matter what.


	3. Chapter 2

It had been quiet for much too long in what Harry assumed was the Hogwarts' infirmary. No one had come to visit him, and Madam Pomfrey hadn't come to check on him in quite some time. _It must be the middle of the night, then._

Harry grinned inwardly as he once again moved his left pinky. Surely he'd be ready for the wedding at this rate! He began experimenting with his other fingers when he heard the distinct sound of the infirmary door clicking shut. Someone was here to see him?

He listened carefully as heavy footsteps made their way toward his bed. Whoever it was, they seemed almost hesitant to approach him. Finally, they made it to his bed side. He heard his mysterious guest scoot one of the visitor's chairs over near the left side of his head, then settle themselves down into it. For the longest time, he heard nothing else. _Who the hell is this? It's starting to creep me out!_

"Mister Potter..."

Harry's heart froze at the sound of his old Potions Professor's voice. _There's no way! I...I saw him die! I watched him die in my arms after Nagini…_

"I was certain you would surely have been awake by now, but you Gryffindors always were slower than the rest of your classmates."

There's no mistaking it. This person _was_ Severus Snape.

Another long moment of silence passed between the miraculously alive man and the somewhat living body of his student. "I find myself at a loss, Potter." This was weird. Why was _Snape_ talking to him like this? It was almost...intimate. "You have sacrificed yourself in order to save the entirety of the wizarding world. You died so that we all may live...after you saw my memories I had thought you would find a way to destroy the Dark Lord without…well. No matter."

Try as he might, Harry could not figure out what was going on here, so he settled himself down to listen. Who knows, maybe Snape will tell him more about what's going on. Harry really wanted to know what happened after he 'died,' but he must have missed those reviews with his friends, because no one seemed to want to talk about it.

Harry was caressed out of his inner musings as he felt a soft, warm touch to his forehead where his scar was, or used to be. As Snape's fingers traveled over his skin, he didn't feel the dip of the scar that should have been there. It must have disappeared after what happened. Did that mean Voldemort really was gone?

 _Wait. Is Snape_ touching _me?!_

"It seems he truly is gone, Lily." _Lily?_ Was Snape talking to his mother? "You finally received justice. You can rest in peace now, my friend. Mister Potter... _Harry..._ will be fine now. I will make sure of it. You have my word..."

Harry lay in his bed in stunned silence, not that he could have moved anyway. He knew how Snape had felt about his mother after seeing his memories, but he never truly witnessed those emotions until now. As a matter of fact, Harry would have never known that Snape _had_ such emotions. He felt Snape's fingers trail down his arm slowly, sending tingles through the young man's veins. What in the world was going on? Why was Snape touching him like this? As he felt his old professor's fingers brush against his hand, he decided to try his new found movement. Why he chose to do so with Snape rather than a friend, he wasn't sure, but it felt _right._

Harry heard the other man's soft intake of breath as he managed to wrap two of his fingers around Snape's.

"Potter?...Harry?" He whispered that last.

Again, Harry wrapped his fingers as tightly as he could – which wasn't much at all – around the professor's hand. He felt a distinct loss as the man pulled away. He thought perhaps it was because Snape didn't want his touch until he heard the footsteps quickly make their way to the back of the infirmary, only to return again with a second person in tow.

"Are you certain, Severus?"

"Absolutely."

Harry felt Madam Pomfrey's magic wash over his body as she checked his vitals. "Well, everything is the same as before, nothing has changed...What did you do to make him move? Perhaps it was simply a reflex?"

"I'm positive it was not. I simply touched his hand, and his fingers wrapped around mine!"

"Here, let me try." There was some shuffling around before Harry felt her hand gently touch his. He tried to repeat his performance, but found that he couldn't. Maybe he'd tired himself out? Who knows how long his muscles had gone unused, after all…"Nothing, Severus. Are you _sure_ you didn't imagine it? You haven't been sleeping well in such a long time, and-"

"No, he _did!_ Allow me to demonstrate, perhaps you're simply not touching hard enough for him to feel." Once again, Harry felt his professor press down into his hand, so he gathered the rest of his energy, and managed to get three of his fingers around the man's hand this time.

He heard Madam Pomfrey gasp. "Severus! He moved!"

"Well of course he bloody moved, I told you so, did I not?!"

Harry smiled inwardly. Now _that_ was the professor he knew and loved. _Loved? Where did_ that _come from?_

"We must inform the headmistress!" Madam Pomfrey's footsteps shuffled quickly away, presumably to contact profes- _Headmistress_ McGonagall, but Snape kept his hand in Harry's.

"It's about time you showed signs of life, Mister Potter." He heard the man whisper. Was that a _smile_ he heard? "What would the world do without its Golden Boy?"

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By the time Headmistress McGonagall entered the infirmary at what sounded like a full out run, Harry's strength had given out, and he was no longer able to move his fingers.

"He must be exhausted. There's no telling how much energy that must have cost him to do." Madam Pomfrey suggested.

He heard a sniffle, and a slight sob before the Headmistress finally responded. "I'm just glad that he's alright. It's been so long..."

He imagined the two women hugging as Snape stood by, rolling his eyes at the blatant show of emotions, and Harry felt his lips twitch in what would have been a smile had he had the strength.

"If you two are quite finished, we must decide on a course of action. The boy is presumably awake, but he hasn't the strength to do much more than twitch a few muscles."

"Right you are, Severus. We must figure out what to do."

"Shouldn't we at least let the Weasleys know, Headmistress?"

"Absolutely not!" Harry's heart jumped at the adamant command coming from the Potions Master. "If you do that, they'll come in droves, constantly pestering the boy, wanting him to grab their fingers. He'd have no strength left to put towards moving his other limbs! No. We _must_ keep this between us for now."

There was a short moment of silence, before McGonagall chimed in. "I'm afraid Severus is right, Poppy. Harry needs to spend his time working on getting his strength back without the pressures of visitors. We will keep it between us."

He heard someone step toward him and grab his hand softly. It must have been the Headmistress. Boy, he'll never get used to calling her that!

"Mister Potter...Harry...I'm so glad you're alive. I want you to take your time and try to move your muscles one at a time. Do you understand?" He managed a small twitch in his fingers in response. He heard her twitter a small sound of joy, which made him even more glad he could spare that much for his old Head of House.

"Perhaps, Mister Potter, you should attempt to open your eyes, next? It would be much easier to help you if we knew you weren't dozing during our visits, though you seemed to have quite an aptitude for nap time during my classes..."

"Oh Severus!" He felt McGonagall release his hand, probably to smack the Potions Master for his comment. It reminded him a lot of his friends Ron and Hermione... _could McGonagall and Snape be…? No way!...No way, no chance. Right…?_ The very thought made him feel sick to his stomach.

Snape did have a point, though. Instead of moving his fingers, he should have been trying to open his eyes. The man always did have a way of making him feel inferior. Well, there was no way he'd be able to do it now. He'd have to work on it tomorrow.

"Perhaps we should let Mister Potter rest for now." Madam Pomfrey suggested as she fluffed his pillow. "I'll go get him something to help him sleep just in case he feels any pain."

His professors spoke quietly amongst themselves as a potion was administered to Harry, but he couldn't seem to focus on what anyone was saying anymore. He must have been more tired than he thought. _Well, it's for the best._ Harry thought. He really did need to rest to regain his strength. Maybe tomorrow, he would finally be able to see again.


	4. Chapter 3

Success! It took all night, but Harry was finally able to open his eyes a bit. He blinked carefully as his vision came into focus, leaving him to stare at the wooden beams and stone bricks that made up the infirmary's ceiling. He took a moment to really appreciate the sight. True, he had seen those same structures many times before during his tenure at Hogwarts, but he had stared at them knowing he would see them again. Now, he had never laid eyes on anything more beautiful. He was ialive/.

Allowing himself another slow and somewhat painful blink, Harry let his eyes wander to his immediate surroundings, only to find none other than Severus Snape himself. Harry's eyes flicked down to the older man's neck as he searched for signs of the snake bite that should have been there. _That wasn't a dream, right? Nagini really had bitten him! So, how was he alive..?_ To his surprise, all he found were two small discolorations where the fangs had gone into the skin. _Had they already healed?_

Harry managed to turn his head just enough to take in the rest of the room. Nothing seemed to have changed since he had been out. Had the infirmary not gotten caught up in the battle? Probably not. Most of it had taken place in the main entrance and outside, after all. The infirmary had probably been fine. Harry hoped they hadn't needed it for many people besides himself.

His eyes moved back to the professor only to find the man staring right back at him.

"So, you've finally managed to open your eyes." He spoke softly, which really threw Harry off. He had expected something more biting from this man. "I had thought your laziness would have kept them closed for at least another few days." There it is.

Despite the acidic comment, Harry heard no venom in the man's words, and managed to smile in response. "It's...good to see you, too...Professor." He managed to rasp out.

He was pleased to see the corner of the man's mouth turn up just a bit. _That must be how he smiles. How odd._ But Harry had to admit, it was a nice smile, however small.

"Do not force yourself to speak, Mister Potter. Conserve your energy for later. Many people will be wanting to hear from you when you are ready to take guests."

He understood the logic in what the other man said, but Harry had a _lot_ of questions, and he would at least like a few of them answered now. "What day is it?"

"October 5th." _So I've only been out for five months… "_ 2001."

 _WHAT?!_

Snape saw the look of panic on the young man's face, and gently placed his hand down on Harry's leg. "You have been in a coma for three years, Mister Potter."

 _THREE YEARS?! There's no way! There's just...there's no way!_

"Do calm yourself, Potter. I will not be subject to cleaning up any panic induced _messes_ you make in your bed."

Well, _that_ embarrassment brought him back, but now he had a million other questions he had to ask.

As if to read his mind, Snape spoke up. "I will answer three questions. You have now asked one. Choose wisely."

Irritation filtered through Harry's emotions for only a split second before logic took over. He couldn't very well spend the day asking Snape questions, after all. He would have to take it slow. Immediately, he settled on the two most important ones.

"How did you survive?"

Snape's eyes grew slightly in surprise. The boy would ask about _his_ health before that of his friends? He would have to file that away to examine later. For now..."I am a Master of Potions, Mister Potter. Further more, I worked in full knowledge with a crazed mad man who handled a snake. Do you not think I would carry around an antidote to a poison from such a snake?"

Well. That made sense.

"Is Voldemort dead?"

Ah, the question Snape had been waiting for. "He is, and this time, he will not be coming back. You have succeeded in killing one of the most dangerous wizards of all time. Congratulations are in order."

"It's finally over..."

"It is." Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he felt the older man's fingers brush through his hair. "You've done well, Harry. Now rest."

Before Harry could ask why Snape was so nice to him, he felt his eyes grow heavy and begin to close. His last thought before falling into a deep sleep, was the realization that Snape had once again called him Harry.

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Snape watched the boy – or man, he supposed he was now – sleep for a few more moments before heading back into his own quarters in the dungeons below. It would be some time before the young _man_ would wake again. Until then, he had some of his own questions to find the answers to.

Why would Harry ask about his own health before that of his friends? Further more, why does he keep finding himself calling the boy by his name? That last one was easy, he supposed. He was beginning to see that the _boy_ had grown into a fine young _man_ , though he had already slept through a good deal of his young adulthood.

Without really meaning to, Snape had found himself visiting Potter every day since his own release from the infirmary. He recalled waking up in his own bed, alone. He had not received any visitors, apart from Poppy and Minerva of course. Upon gathering his bearings, he had noticed that Mister Potter had not been receiving visitors either. He had commented rather acerbically on it, but Poppy simply stated that the Golden Boy's friends had moved on with their lives after that first year, and what remained of his family wanted nothing more to do with him. The boy was alone...just like him.

Once Snape had been well enough to stand, he had hobbled over to the other man's bed and silently kept him company. Sometimes Snape would read aloud from textbooks, hoping that some of the information would get through to him. Harry had plenty of time on his hands, after all. Perhaps his brain could put forth some effort to actually learn something for once. Besides, when he woke up, he would need to catch up on his schooling if he ever wanted to be something other than a living war relic.

Upon receiving a clean bill of health, Snape was released and once again allowed to return to his teaching, this time, back in Potions where he belonged. Professor Slughorn stated he'd had enough excitement for the rest of his life as he turned in his resignation for the second time, so of course, Snape was the only other option.

In the mornings before school resumed, Snape would continue his own rehabilitation, then in the afternoons he and the other teachers, as well as some Hogwarts alumni, would devote their time to rebuilding the school. In the evenings, however, Snape would return to the infirmary, and read to his most hopeless student. Well, second most hopeless; Mister Longbottom was a force to be reckoned with.

In all that time, not one other person had been to see Mister Potter. It was as if he had simply ceased to exist. When he had heard that Ms. Granger would be returning to take over for Minerva's classes, he knew he needed to have a discussion with her.

He could recall the conversation well.

They had just concluded a meeting about how classes were to resume and how the previous years were to be handled – there hadn't been much teaching in those last couple of years before the final battle – when Snape finally seized his chance with the young lady.

"Ms. Granger. A word."

He was rather pleased to see that he still had the ability to strike fear into his students, even when they no longer were under his tutelage.

"Is there something I can help you with, Professor Snape?"

Snape spun on his heel to face the young witch, his face already wearing his customary sneer. "Do the bonds of friendship mean little to you, Ms. Granger?" He hadn't meant to get straight to the point like that, but for some reason, his anger had gotten the best of him.

"Excuse me?"

"You and your little Weasley friend had not gone to visit Mister Potter even once in this past year and a half. Did he really mean so little to you? Was his sacrifice so small that you can simply turn your back on him?"

Impressively, Ms. Granger was able to keep her anger in check. "You don't understand, Professor. Ron and I truly have a lot going on. We can't just simply stop living our lives just to come visit someone who might never..."

"Who might never what, Ms. Granger?" She seemed reluctant to answer as she squirmed under his hard gaze. "Who might never wake up? Do you really have such little faith in your friends? You disappoint me."

He had made to storm off around the corner, but upon turning, he stopped, and waited to see what the girl would do next. Hermione stood dejectedly in that hallway for quite some time before Snape saw her leave, heading straight for the infirmary.

Since that encounter, she had come either by herself or with someone else, every two days to visit her old friend. Snape was quite pleased, though for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

Perhaps it was because he knew what it was like, waking up alone. Yes, perhaps that was it. That was why Snape never missed a night, no matter how inconvenient the visits had become for him. No matter what, someone would be there when Harry woke up.

Thankfully, it had been him.


	5. Chapter 4

"MERLIN'S BALLS, HARRY!"

"If I weren't so happy right now, I'd smack you, Ronald Weasley!"

Harry managed a small grin for his friends as he watched them run across the infirmary to him, their voices drowning out Madam Pomfrey's warnings to behave. He closed his eyes as Hermione's arms gently wrapped around him. He had missed her hugs.

"How've you been, mate?!" Harry flinched as his friend patted him none too gently on his leg. "Whoops, sorry." That time, he _did_ get a smack.

Harry smiled and settled back into his bed. "I'm getting better. Bit sore here and there, though."

"I bet you have _loads_ of questions!" Ron grabbed a chair from a nearby unoccupied bed and loudly pulled it over to join Hermione's before plopping heavily into it.

"I do." Harry nodded. "Hermione, can you tell me...who…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish, but he really needed to know how many of his friends are gone, now. He hadn't seen any of them visit, so he'd been afraid that no one was left.

Hermione pursed her lips in thought, reminding Harry of Professor- no, _Headmistress_ McGonagall. He would never get used to that.

"Harry, are you sure you want to talk about this right now? You're only just recovering..."

The young man nodded in determination. He _needed_ to know.

Resigned, Hermione began listing off names.

 _Professor Lupin. Tonks. Collin. Lavender. And...Fred._

Harry opened his eyes at that last one. "Fred is..." He looked over at Ron, who was frowning at his hands in his lap. "Oh Ron...I'm so sorry..."

"Me too." After a long moment of silence, he lifted his eyes to meet his friend's and smiled sadly, fresh tears marring the surface of his face. "Blimey Harry, I was sure I had gotten over this part."

Harry reached for the ginger's hand and gently squeezed, knowing that nothing he could say would possibly make it any better. "How's George doing..?" He surely took it harder than anyone, even Mrs. Weasley.

Ron didn't seem able to respond, so Hermione patted him on the back and took over. "George hasn't been in contact with us much since that day..."

"Is he alright? I mean...he's not...is he…?"

"He's alive, and he sends letters to Mrs. Weasley, but he's not who he used to be, understandably so. The last time we saw him, he wasn't smiling, and he didn't make even one joke..."

"What about the shop?"

"I've been running it." Ron finally spoke up, this time with more energy. "It's been loads of fun, Harry. You should come join me when you're better. We could probably come up with all _kinds_ of things that students here could use! I was thinking we could start with maybe a potion to keep Mrs. Norris from seeing you! That was always our pr-"

"I would prefer you not aid my students in breaking school rules, Mister Weasley."

Ron's head whipped around, his face suddenly white as a sheet. "Right...sorry, Professor." He snuck a grin and a wink Harry's way, before standing and offering his seat to the Headmistress.

 _He really has grown._

McGonagall nodded her appreciation for the young man's gesture, and regally took a seat. Harry always felt he was amongst royalty when she was around. He wondered if she had been that way as a student.

"It's good to see you awake, Mister Potter." Her smile was tight lipped, but sincere. He felt her soft, frail hand take his and give it a gentle squeeze. "For a while there, I had thought..." She shook her head as if to expel any negativity. "No matter. You're here now, and you have much to catch up on."

Harry nodded. "I was wondering, Professor...er...our schooling…?"

He left the question quite unfinished, but his old Head of House knew immediately what he wished to know. "All students were tested in general knowledge that their years should know. What they lacked in, we provided summer courses. Upon their return to Hogwarts, they were tested. Those who passed," She spared a smile for Hermione on her right. "Graduated. Those who did not..." Her smile slipped as she glanced to her left at Ron.

"I had to take _another_ year of school, Harry! Can you believe it?! It was downright _embarrassing!_

"Well, Mister Weasley, perhaps you have learned since to apply yourself. I do hope your children take after their mother."

This caused the two former students to blush profusely. Ron was practically a tomato, and Hermione's face was even darker than Ron's hair. Harry coughed to hide his laugh, but he still managed to receive a glare from both of his friends.

"That being said, I _do_ look forward to more Weasleys. Perhaps without a penchant for trouble, however. Yes, that would be quite acceptable."

Harry was pretty sure she was enjoying torturing his friends, and as much as he loved seeing them wiggle under her attentions, he had more questions he needed answering before he passed out again. "Professor, what...what happened? At the battle, I mean."

His friends shot him relieved glances as the attention was brought back to him.

"What is the last thing you remember, Mister Potter?"

"Well, I remember a lot of fighting..."

Harry could remember with vivid detail what had happened up to a certain point.

Rocks and dirt filled the air from explosions caused by stray spells. He could hear screams in the distance, but apart from the soft sounds of hexes and curses as they cut through the air, it was more silent than he ever would have thought a battle to be.

Voldemort had been taunting him. Telling him that they were on the losing side. Describing what he would do to Harry and his friends once they were captured. "You would be defanged, of course. All of your wands broken, right before your eyes." He gestured regally, speaking in his usual fashion, as if he had no where else to be and all the time in the world. "And _you..._ Harry Potter...The Boy Who Lived...You shall watch your friends die, one...by...one. Perhaps I will use the Imperius on you, so that you may feel their lives slip out of their bodies at your own hand. Yes, that would be sweet, would it not, Potter?"

His laugh had both frightened Harry and strengthened his resolve. This man had to die. _Now._

But the only way for Voldemort to die…

 _None can live while the other survives…_

Harry had to die...but how? If his magic had been the answer, it certainly would have worked by now. No, he had to do this the muggle way. It was too bad he hadn't ever thought of getting a gun. It just seemed so low tech after learning magic, he never would have thought…

"Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his revere at Hermione's touch.

"Are you alright, Mister Potter? Perhaps we shouldn't speak of this now..."

"No!" His friends shrank back at the power behind his voice. "Sorry...it's just...no. I need to know, Professor...please?"

Lips pursed, McGonagall finally nodded and acquiesced. "Very well. I'm not certain what led to your decision, exactly, but I... _we all_ saw you charge straight at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but you were too close to the edge of the cliffs where the bridge had broken. You...fell...Mister Potter. Both of you."

Harry stared in shock, He _fell off of a cliff?_ But then, how did he survive?

Seeing his question laid bare on his face, Hermione continued the recounting. "I covered for Ron whilst he summoned a broom and went after you. A few other people did the same...Neville and Professor Flitwick, I think."

"You were already at the bottom, mate..." Ron took over. "Your...your arms and legs...your back...it was all broken... _you_ were broken." He took a moment to regain his composure. Harry felt so bad for his friend. He didn't know what _he_ would have done if he had seen any of them in the same state. "Anyway, Professor Flitwick...erm... _gathered_ you up then sent sparks up so that someone could retrieve the git's body."

"Ron!"

"Well he _was_ a git, Hermione!" He turned back to Harry. "We took you to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey went to work fixing you. When we got you there, you were...you were..."

"I was dead…?" He had been _dead?!_

Ron nodded. "Yeh. But once we laid you on one of the beds, you suddenly started breathing again! It was a miracle, really! Madam Pomfrey sent us out, then, all but Neville. She had him go and fetch some ingredients. I think he was thankful for a break from the fighting, but it was nearly over by then, anyway. When we saw you again, you were put back together, but you weren't waking up. Madam Pomfrey said you'd be in a coma for some time so your body could heal, but we never thought you'd be gone for _so long..."_

Ron suddenly seemed very guilty and his eyes became downcast. Confused, Harry looked over at Hermione for an explanation.

"...Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!" She threw herself onto him and began crying, much to his body's dismay. He really was quite sore, but he let her get it all out before prodding her to continue. "You _must_ understand, Harry. We couldn't come see you every day...we had to rebuild our own lives as well. We...we couldn't...we thought…"

 _Ah._ Harry understood now. "You stopped coming. You thought I wouldn't wake up." It was not a question. His friends had abandoned him. How did he feel about that? He looked over at them. Ron was still staring at his lap in shame, and Hermione was crying into her hands. It would take some time to get over it, but..."I understand, Hermione. I'm not mad." Not exactly, but he'd be alright. They all would.

It was finally over.


	6. Chapter 5

Harry sat awake that night, going over everything he had learned since waking up.

Voldemort was finally gone, for good this time. That was definitely a plus.

His friends had abandoned him whilst he was in a coma. That was a negative, but he supposed with time he would truly forgive them. They were his friends, after all, and they _were_ there for him when it _really_ counted. A small negative, then.

Professor Snape was alive. Ron might disagree, but that was a positive in his book. Snape had put his entire life on the line for _years_ , before Harry was even born, and he'd saved their lives countless times. He might have been a right git ever since Harry had entered Hogwarts, but his good deeds definitely outweighed his bad. He made his mistakes, and he paid for them dearly. Since then, he'd more than made up for them. Definitely a plus.

His friends were safe. Well...most of them. He would always have that list of people in his head who did not survive the final battle, but it would only help him to live on so that their sacrifices would never be in vein. He would ensure that no one else had to die just because of some hostile wizards gone mad. He wasn't sure if he should label that a plus or a minus. Perhaps both.

That being said, he was beginning to gain a clear understanding of where he wanted his life to go from there. He would study harder than he ever had before – it should be much easier without his life being constantly on the line – and work more on his public image.

With his attention fully on his future, Harry didn't hear his old professor approach his bed. It wasn't until the man softly cleared his throat that Harry even realized Snape was there.

"Professor! Sorry, I was thinking about some things."

"So I see. I do hope you will not hurt yourself in the process."

Harry grinned in response to the cutting remark. He was really starting to get the hang of Snape's wit. It wasn't as bad as he had always thought. Was it because he was growing up, or was Professor Snape just becoming softer?

"Potter, do close your mouth. Any manner of insect might fly in and take up residence. I dare say I shant be the one to save you again."

 _Definitely not getting soft._

"Sorry, Professor. I had just come to a few realizations, is all. What brings you here?"

"I have been sent to check in on the Wizarding World's Golden Boy." No one had really asked Severus to check on the boy _per say_ , but he didn't need to know that. "I do trust you are doing better? Your colour is returning and you no longer look like a premature mandrake."

"Well, thanks, I guess. You're looking pretty good yourself." He tried his best to hide his blush. He didn't mean to say that out loud, and he wasn't even sure what he meant by it. _Did_ he think Snape looked good? Keeping his head down, he nonchalantly glanced over at his old professor, only to find the man looking right back at him, a blank expression on his face. Had he said something wrong? He had to change the subject before things got more awkward! "Speaking of which, how _are_ you feeling, sir?"

"I am well."

"And...your throat..?" Harry gestured vaguely to his own neck.

"Only a slight twinge. I am quite alright, I assure you."

The two sat in companionable silence, completely comfortable with each others' presence. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Snape pull out a book and begin taking notes. _He must be grading papers._ The younger man closed his eyes and listened to the scratches of quill on parchment paper. It was a very comforting sound to Harry and always made him feel like he was safe. He let his mind wander for a while before a thought came to the forefront of his mind.

"Sir…?"

Snape looked up from his work, one eyebrow quirked in a very Snapely fashion.

"I realize you're a very busy man, but you always seem to make time to come and see me..." Perhaps it wasn't because Snape was told to do so? Could Harry even hope? _Wait, why do I_ want _Snape to visit me?_ Just more things he'll need to dwell on later. "I was wondering..."

Snape closed his book with a snap and crossed his hands in his lap in irritation. "Mister Potter, if you've something to ask, spit it out. I haven't got all night."

"Will you take a walk with me?"

The older wizard blinked in surprise, but couldn't seem to come up with a witty retort. As a matter of fact, his mind had gone completely blank. Out of all the people...why was Potter asking _him_ to go on a moonlight stroll?

"Ah, I need to get my strength back, see..." Harry added quickly. "I haven't even tried standing since I woke up, and I can't imagine it would be too easy by myself, and with all the students coming in and out and all, I didn't want to bother Madam Pomfrey with it..."

"Mister Potter, do calm yourself." Snape wasn't sure why, but he was pleased that it was _him_ that Potter had chosen for such a task. "I will assist you." He felt a distinct tingle in his chest as Potter's face lit up with delight. He would have to examine that reaction later. For now..."Do you wish to begin now?"

Harry nodded eagerly and threw off his covers.

"Do be careful, Potter. It's been years since you've so much as taken a-" He quickly stood, his chair sliding across the floor behind him as he caught Harry just before he had a chance to collapse on the floor. "As I was saying, your legs will need to build strength. You cannot simply begin walking without applying the proper exercises..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the younger man staring up at him in his arms. He realized then that his heart rate had sped up quite a bit as compared to its normal rate. Was it because Potter's hands were on his chest? It had been such a long time since anyone had touched him. He really _was_ desperate for human interaction. Putting it out of his mind for the moment, Severus set the young man back on the bed, trying his very best to ignore the man's legs as his gown rode up hi thighs. iAh, legs./i "Perhaps we should start building up the muscles in your legs first."

Harry nodded and sat up on the edge of the bed, moving and bending his legs as instructed. Snape's hands on his calves gave him a strange feeling, but it wasn't unpleasant. Maybe the two of them were finally becoming friends, after all. "Professor...why are you helping me?"

Snape paused in his ministrations and looked up at his student. "Did you not ask for my assistance?"

"No, no! I mean, yes! I did, but...it's just..." Harry ran his fingers through his unruly hair as he tried to sort out his thoughts into coherence. "You visit me more than even Hermione and Ron. Have you really been asked to, or do you come on your own?"

The Potions Master continued bending and straightening the young man's leg, trying to come up with a valid excuse to work with, but decided on the truth instead. "You have done the world a great service, Mister Potter. The least I can do is visit you until you are well. I dare say you would have done the same for me." Gryffindors were very easy to read, and Harry Potter was no different. He would have never allowed Snape to go without visitors if he had been the first to wake instead. "I realize it isn't enough to properly repay you, however-"

"You don't need to repay me, Professor. Merlin knows how often you saved my life. More times than I can count, I'm sure..." The conversation was beginning to get uncomfortable, so Harry decided to change the subject. "Speaking of saving my life..." _Great segue, Harry._ "Could you help me with potions? I'm a little behind..."

Snape's mouth quirked up into the ghost of a smile. "Nearly three years behind at least, though with the marks you've received in my class in particular, I would be remiss if I did not simply start from year one."

Harry winced, but he knew his professor was right. It wasn't as if he wasn't interested in potions, it's just that he'd had a lot on his plate ever since day one.

"Very well, Mister Potter. I will assist you with that as well. Perhaps you would like me to fluff your pillows and turn down your bed each night as well?"

"I mean, if you're offering-" Harry cut off in surprise as one of his pillows smacked him in the back of the head. He immediately looked up to find his professor smirking at him, wand in hand. "Did you just…?"

"I'm sure I have no idea to what you are referring, Potter." He gently set Harry's legs down and gathered his things. "I'm afraid I have many things to do before the night is over. I will be returning to my rooms now."

Harry lowered his head and nodded. "Right, I'm sure you've got a life to get back to..." Why did he feel so dejected all of a sudden? It wasn't as if he could expect Snape of all people to just stay with him all night…

Severus leaned down and brushed his fingers through his student's unruly mop. "I will return tomorrow night." He straightened to leave, but stopped and turned back to Harry, who was trying in vein to get his own heart to calm itself down. "And if I find out you have been trying to stand on your own, there _will_ be consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry swallowed and quickly nodded. "Yes sir." Snape would always intimidate him, no matter how old he got.

The Potions Master nodded, pleased that he could instill terror in his students, even the great Harry Potter.

Harry watched the man quickly exit the room, seemingly glad to be out of the stifling atmosphere. He wished he could go, too. Sometimes, it felt like Harry _lived_ in the infirmary. "Once I get out of here, I vow I'll _never_ come back. After all, with Voldemort gone, what else could there be out there to hurt me?" He settled back down into bed and covered himself, allowing his mind to lull him into a light slumber. "Well, I suppose there's always Quidditch..." His last thought before finally drifting off to sleep, was of Snape riding a broom and smiling as he raced Harry to the Snitch.


	7. Chapter 6

_Dear Fred,_

 _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good…_

 _Did you know...I had a twin once?_

 _Are you still a twin when the other one is gone? I'm not sure I really want to know._

 _Fred, where are you? I wake up every morning and look for you in the bed next to me, but you aren't there. You're never there._

 _Mum said if I write to you, I'll feel better, but so far, I'm only feeling worse._

 _What are you doing right now?_

 _I bet you're playing loads of pranks on everyone. Is Dumbledore there? Have you tried to give him one of our joke Lemon Drops? You know the ones, where they turn your socks into snapping turtles? No, I suppose not._

 _I'm sorry I'm not there with you, Fred. Some days, I wish I were…At first, I had wished it was me that was gone, but then you'd be where I am right now, wouldn't you?_

 _Everyone always had trouble telling us apart, but you and I knew we were both very different. You were always the smarter one. You came up with the best ideas and you always knew just what to say. You were better in school, too. You could have aced all of our classes, even with that troll of a woman taking over, but you left because of me, didn't you? You saved me, like you always have, but I couldn't save you, Fred._

 _I couldn't save you…I'm so sorry…_

 _What do I have going for me now? Sure, I have my looks, but all that gets me is a wife and maybe a kid or two...it doesn't bring my twin back._

 _You were more than just my brother, you know? You were my best friend. I told you everything I had ever thought and felt; I talked to you about everything. Well, there was one thing I never had a chance to tell you, Fred. I never got to tell you 'I love you.' Can you believe it? I had all those years with you, and I never once said it. I guess I thought I would have a lot longer with you than I did._

 _The day you died, a piece of me died with you. Sometimes, I'm not even sure which 'me' I am. Am I Fred? Am I the one who died? Is that why I feel so much pain all the time? It never stops, George. When I'm sleeping, when I'm eating, even when I'm you, I still feel it. When I'm speaking to others, sometimes I won't finish my sentences because I'm so used to you doing it for me. I'm only half a man without you. Please...come back to me?_

 _I promise I'll tell you I love you every day…_

 _I'll clean your socks, I'll iron your shirts, I'll even do it the muggle way, if I can find out how to do it…_

 _Just...please come back…_

 _I'm sorry._

 _Enough of that drivel, right mate? Let's lighten the mood a bit._

 _Harry's doing better every day. He's been walking a bit, I hear. I haven't been to see him yet, but I plan on going some time soon. If I don't, I imagine he'll come looking for me himself. Can't have him collapsing halfway here, after all!_

 _Ron and Ginny miss you. We all do, but I think besides myself, they miss you the most. They're the youngest ones, you know? They don't know how to deal with losing their brother. Then again, neither do I…_

 _I hear mum's been crying almost every night. I don't think she's gotten a decent night's sleep in years, not since you...and dad has trouble handling it, too. Sometimes, he won't even go home until early the next morning. I don't expect he's drinking or anything; he's probably just tinkering with some muggle toys or something, but I wish he would go home sooner. Mum really needs him._

 _You remember Snape? He's alive too. I'll bet you're happy to know that! You won't have to see him where you are. It's too bad you won't get to pull any pranks on him, though, and I've been too busy to even try._

 _I've been experimenting on a few new potions for our shop. One is supposed to make ears grow all over your body! That one's still got a few bugs to work out...I think there's still a couple of ears on my...well, moving on…_

 _I also tried making a potion that shows you images of people you're looking for, kind of like that Erised Mirror that Harry always talked about. I thought that maybe I could see you again...one last time._

 _My last potion you might not like, but it's one I've been working the most on, the one I need the most. It's called Forget Me. Can you guess what it does, Fred? That's right. It makes you forget. I love you so much, but I can't take the pain anymore. I thought...that maybe, if I can just forget...Well. You might not like it, but it's what I need to do, otherwise...well, who knows what I might do? I might even see you sooner than you'd like, mate. This really is the best option for me. I hope that some day, you'll understand, and when I do see you again, I hope you won't be too cross with me. I do love you, Fred. Please, remember that always._

George yanked the parchment off of the table and ripped it into pieces before setting it on fire with a concentrated ' _Incendio!'_ He just couldn't get himself to continue the letter. What else could he say? Fred was gone. It wasn't like he was actually going to read it, anyway. "This was a dumb idea."

He pushed himself away from the table and glanced around the small room he had been staying in since he left everything behind. His cot took up one entire side of the room, and a decently sized desk the other, which left the center of the room for his cauldron. The remaining two walls were lined with cabinets for storage, which currently contained ingredients and small gadgets that he had been tampering with to pass the time between brewing. Apart from the loo in the back, that was about all he had, now. _Well, it isn't much, but it's enough._ He was about to return to his potions, when his pensieve caught his eye. He had forgotten the memory he'd left in there from the previous night...he should probably put it away…

He stepped over to the pensieve, nudging old granola wrappers out of his way as he went. Eventually, he'll find the will to clean. Leaning over the rim, he watched silently as his memories swam around the bowl like Goldfish in a pond. _Maybe Just...one more time._

Letting himself become immersed in the memory was sweet to say the least, but he was always afraid that he'd never want to come out again. _I'm sure it will be fine. One last look, then I'll put it away._

He closed his eyes, held his breath, and allowed his memories to swallow him once more.

 _When he again opened his eyes, he was blessed with the familiar surroundings of his room at the Burrow, before it had been set on fire._

" _George! She's coming, quick!"_

 _A little seven year old Fred slid into the bedroom right through his corporeal form, his twin close behind. He stepped to the corner of the room and watched in amusement as the two young boys hurriedly returned all of their secret pranks to their hiding places, finishing just before their mum entered._

" _What have you two been up to? I heard a crash!"_

 _Both boys had their hands behind their backs and were staring up at their mum innocently as they rocked on their feet._

" _Whatever do you mean, mother?" Little George inquired._

" _Yes, mother, I can't imagine what noise you might have heard!"_

 _Of course, she didn't buy it one bit. "Where's your brother?"_

" _He's right here!" The twins said in unison, pointing at each other._

" _Not that one! You know which I mean! Fred, tell me now!" She looked at one of the boys crossly, hands on her hips in a no-nonsense manner._

" _I'm not Fred!"_

" _I am!" George raised his hand._

" _Honestly! And you call yourself our mother!"_

" _Sorry, George dear." Their mum sighed, placing her hand on her forehead in exhaustion. "Go outside, will you? And stop testing things on Ronald!"_

" _Sure thing! We'll be good-"_

" _We promise!" The boys responded._

 _Before Fred followed his brother out of the room, he turned to his mother and tugged on her apron. "I'm only joking...I am Fred." He grinned and ran after his twin._

Before he could see anymore, George found himself thrust into another familiar memory, this one much more intimate.

" _George?"_

 _George looked over at his brother from his side of the room. He couldn't see him through the darkness, but he didn't need to. Even if Fred hadn't spoken, he always knew where he was. "What's up, Fred?"_

" _When we get older, what do you wanna do?"_

 _George smiled as he watched his twelve year old self mull it over before answering. "Well, I suppose I'll keep doing what we've always been doing."_

" _Playing pranks on everyone?" He could hear Fred's grin in his voice. Oh how he missed that voice…_

" _Yup!"_

 _George heard his brother rustle around in his bed as he tried to get comfortable. He'd always wondered what made him so restless that night. It would just be another of the many things he would never get to ask._

" _What's wrong, Fred?"_

" _George, what happens when we get married?"_

" _Well, I reckon we'll play pranks on our new families, too!"_

" _Together?"_

" _Of course!"_

 _George was surprised to feel tears trail down his cheeks. He hadn't cried the last time he viewed this memory...Time to go._

After pulling himself out of the past, George couldn't hold it in anymore. He slowly sank to the floor, buried his face in his hands, and cried. How long had it been since he cried over his brother? Weeks, surely...He didn't understand. Every day, his family seemed to handle it easier and easier, but for him, it was like it would always remain as fresh as it was on the first day. He would never get used to a world without Fred. Not as long as he could remember him.

That's why...he had to do this.

He allowed himself another few seconds of tears before pulling himself together. He needed to finish the job. Rebottling his memories, he placed them back into a small wooden crate he kept underneath his desk that was already bursting with all things Fred. _Thank Merlin for magic._

His cauldron was just finishing up it's last hour of simmering. It should be about ready, he just needed one last thing. He stepped over to his cabinet of supplies and rummaged around until he found it. Fred's old stirring rod. He remembered getting it for him in their third year when he accidentally made the first one explode. He had felt so horrible about it, but Fred just laughed it off, saying it had been the best explosion he had ever seen.

He returned to his potion and stirred counter-clockwise once, twice, three times, _aaaand done._ He carefully dried off the stirring rod and set it aside. _All that's left is to let it cool. I suppose I'll just take a nap until then._ George was about to settle back into his cot, when he remembered the letter he had tried to write to his brother. "This will be my last chance to write it..."

With new determination, he sat at his desk, dipped his quill, and wrote:

 _Dear Fred,_

 _Mischief Managed._

 _George._


	8. Chapter 7

Back in his personal quarters, Severus began shuffling through old files, trying to find something, _anything_ to keep his hands busy. After leaving Potter a few hours ago, he had been thinking of nothing but the young man, and that was not good.

True, Potter was well above the age of consent now, but he was still Severus' student, and the child of both his greatest love and worst enemy. Perhaps that was precisely why the boy- _man_ was on his mind. There was a definite connection between the two. Whilst their ages may be vastly different, Harry had lived a very troubled childhood, not unlike his own. His parents were a connection as well in some way, and they both had dealt with a great evil for most of their lives. Unfortunately, that is where the similarities ended.

Harry had friends since entering Hogwarts, many friends from what Severus had witnessed as he watched the boy grow. He, on the other hand, had only ever had one true friend, and that was Harry's mother, Lily. Sure, Regulus Black and Lucius Malfoy had been friendly enough towards him, civil at least, but only because they were house mates. They had never even been in the same year, though Regulus had been much closer in age. No, Snape had been quite alone growing up, Death Eaters aside.

The young Gryffindor also had his looks. Even Snape would admit that Harry had inherited the best of both parents: His mother's striking green eyes and his fathers boyish, lopsided grin and charmingly, unruly hair. He would probably find no end to possible suitors. Snape's future looked quite a bit more dull. People always pointed out how greasy his hair looked or how garishly long his nose was. His skin was too sallow, his fingers too long, his attitude too dark, too cruel.

Yes, the two were practically night and day.

The more Snape thought about it, though, the more he considered forming a friendship with the young man. Perhaps someone so completely opposite of himself would be good for him.

With the Dark Lord gone, it wasn't as if he needed to keep up appearances anymore. Snape could be as nice or as evil as he wanted, without a care in the world. The thought was quite liberating, but all the same, he was pretty certain that Gryffindors would always be the bane of his existence, and he just couldn't picture himself taking points from his own house. Severus Snape will always be Severus Snape, and that's all there was to it.

A soft knock at his door brought him back to the present situation. What was he to do about Potter? _Probably nothing, I would think. It isn't as if the feelings would be mutual, if there were even any feelings to consider._ It was most likely just companionship that he longed for, and who better to get it from than the very man who's faced the same evils as he?

Another knock broke his thoughts entirely, summoning slight irritation at being interrupted. Severus made it across the room in two strides and threw the door open in one fluid motion, his best sneer already in place to greet his late night guest. "Mister Malfoy. To what do I owe this...pleasure…?" He always enjoyed the look of panic on his students' faces when he paused like that, but it was nice to know he could still have the same effect on his alumni.

"Erm...Good evening, Severus. May I come in?"

The boy didn't even wait to be invited before stepping into Severus' rooms. _Why is it I think of Draco as a boy, but not Potter? They_ are _the same age, after all…_

"Mister Malfoy, _do_ make it quick. I have plenty of work to keep me busy already without my having to coddle a former student."

"From what I hear, you seem to have plenty of time to coddle Potter."

Snape wanted to hex the boy's smug sneer right off of his pale, little face. "As I'm sure you're well aware, _Mister Malfoy,_ Mister Potter is a _current_ student, who is, most unfortunately, quite far behind on his studies. I have simply been making an attempt to save the Golden Boy from a most ill conceived future. It is, after all, in everyone's best interest that the young man succeeds. The quicker he learns, the sooner he is out of my hair and out of my life."

"Right...Since when did you care about Potter, anyway?"

He'd had quite enough of Draco's rude behaviour. "If you do not enlighten me as to why I am hosting an after dinner party with you, young Malfoy, I shall be forced to banish you immediately from the school grounds. Now, I will not ask again. _Why. Are. You. Here."_

That seemed to have done the trick quite nicely, as Malfoy's face began to turn fifty shades of pale. _Remarkable…_

"I've received word of something strange, sir. Something I think you need to know about." He glared at his feet as if fighting an internal battle. "Something Potter and his friends should know about."

That had Severus' attention. "What is it, Draco? Speak up, boy!"

Malfoy was taken aback by the vehemence in his old Professor's voice, but he supposed he could understand it. "It's one of the Weasleys, sir. The twin, the one who lived?"

"George." Snape supplied. He was always able to tell the two apart quite well, something he suspected only his own parents were ever able to do.

Draco nodded. "Right, George. He's been recorded as having purchased some rather... _interesting_ potions ingredients." He pulled a list out of his jacket pocket and handed it to the Potions Master. "Alone, they wouldn't be a big deal, but together..."

Severus quickly perused the list and knew immediately what the young man must have been making. Was he too late? "When were the last ingredients purchased? Quick, boy! Speak up!"

"Three days ago. The last ones being Valerian Sprigs and Jobberknoll Feather."

He had no time to spare. Severus needed to find Weasley before it was too late, but where was he? Perhaps Molly or Arthur would know. He had heard that the boy had practically all but gone missing since the final battle, but surely he would tell his own parents where he was, if only to let them know he was alive. He grabbed his cloak and quickly exited his quarters, leaving the Malfoy heir to his own devices.

"Oh wow, thanks, Draco! You did a wonderful job, Draco! I was wrong for poking fun at you for joining the Regulation of Magical Potions Department, Draco! I owe you one!" Draco rolled his eyes and looked around the older man's room. It wasn't often he was left alone in Severus' private quarters. "I wonder what kinds of naughty things he has hidden away..." Unfortunately, before he could even look, Severus returned.

"Out of my home, if you please, Mister Malfoy. _You_ will be coming with _me_."

"What?!" Malfoy whined. "But why!? What'd I do!?" Well, there went his fun. Damn it, he knew he should have gone to Potter first.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry jerked awake suddenly as his foot slid off the bed, making him think he was falling once again off of his broom. "Ugh, why did such a perfect dream have to be interrupted like that? I was about to catch the snitch..."

The amazing part of the dream, though, wasn't the Quidditch game, or even the fact that his dark, scary dungeon bat of a Professor was smiling, it was the way Snape had been _looking_ at him. It was with affection and admiration, with understanding and unadulterated lust...love? Lust?

Which was it? _Wait...why would it be_ either!? Harry shook his head roughly. He must still be half asleep to be thinking of his Professor in such a way. Unfortunately, curiosity got the best of him, and he allowed his thoughts to continue. Thinking of Snape gave him a very pleasant sensation in his belly, and always brought a smile to his face. What was it he was feeling for the man?

It _had_ to be fatherly love, _right?_

 _I mean, I've only ever dated girls, and I've never really had a father...Professor Lupin and Sirius came pretty close, I suppose, but they're both gone now, so Snape's all I've got._ Yep, that was probably it. That made him feel better. Well, sort of...the thought seemed to make his heart hurt a little. Probably because he missed Remus and Sirius. Or it could be indigestion.

Harry chuckled quietly to himself. _Why do I always make the best jokes when no one is around?_ He thought of Snape's face if he had said that in the man's presence. If he got any response at all, he imagined it would be an eye roll and an unamused glare. The guy _did_ have a way with ruining a good time. Although, Harry had to admit that when they had some alone time together, they got along quite swimmingly. If he didn't know any better, he might even go as far as to say that Severus must care for him back in some similar way, as he continued his visits and never _truly_ insulted Harry.

Sure, when the younger wizard made mistakes, Snape was the first to point them out, but Harry didn't mind all that much. He could almost see it as cute…

Ugh! What was _wrong_ with him? Was he just thinking of Severus Snape as _cute?!_ Merlin's balls, I must be _really_ tired to be thinking of _Snape_ like that. _I can't even imagine his reaction if I_ ever _called him_ cute! Harry would probably find his fingers and toes mixed up, or maybe he'd just lose them all together! No way, there's no way he could _ever_ allow the man to know that. That meant no thinking about it either, as he was a master in Legilamancy as well.

As much as he was loathe to admit it, Harry was actually quite jealous of Severus. His future was established, he had many talents and many more connections than even Harry had. He might not have been as wealthy as Harry, but the younger man always suspected he _could_ be with all of his talents in Potions alone. Snape would never have to teach again…

The thought made him sad, but he wasn't entirely sure why. "Ugh!" He threw his pillow in frustration only to have it fly back and slam into his face. At first, he thought someone had thrown it back at him, before he realized that Madam Pomfrey must have spelled the pillows and blankets to stay on the bed so that she wouldn't have to go around retucking in her charges every hour on the hour.

Well, since he was up, he might as well get some exercise in. A shiver invaded his veins as he pulled the blankets off of his legs. Why in the world did Madam Pomfrey have to make it so _cold_ all the time?! _This isn't a bloody morgue!_ The flagstone floor was even worse. The second his feet touched ground, he could no longer feel them. Maybe it was for the best, if he can't feel pain and soreness, he might be able to make it across the room this time!

Using the bedside table as support, Harry pulled himself to his feet. "Right then. Step one: Balance." He allowed himself a few seconds of swaying before finding his center. "Check. Step two-" Before he could even lift a foot, his legs gave out and he fell back onto the bed. "I meant to do that." Steeling himself, he stood and began round two. "Alright, Harry. Good job, well done! Now let's take a little step, shall we?"

At first, he was managing pretty well with small shuffles, but Harry was never one for patience. He began taking bigger and bigger steps, but upon seeing his progress – already halfway across the room! – he got too excited, lost his balance, and immediately fell. _Ow! Face, meet floor!_ He was glad the infirmary was closed. He couldn't imagine anyone would ever let him live down the position he was currently in. Head down, butt up? Yea, thank Merlin and all that was magical that Ron wasn't there to see it.

"As much as I appreciate the thought, Mister Potter, now is really not the time for such... _activities."_

Harry quickly rolled onto his back only to find his old Potions Professor staring down at him, hardly managing to hide his amusement. To make matters worse, Draco Malfoy was behind the man, snickering.

"That is _hardly_ better Mister Potter."

"Might wanna close your legs, Potter. 's a bit drafty in here." Draco added, finally allowing himself a good laugh at Harry's expense.

Blushing head to toe, Harry folded his legs beneath him and pulled himself up into a sitting position. "To what do I owe this pleasant visit?"

"Urgent news, I'm afraid. If you are not averse to my carrying you, we shall make our way up to the Headmistress' office immediately."

He wasn't sure why, but Harry really liked the idea of Snape carrying him, even if Draco had to be there to ruin the whole thing. Either way, whatever was going on, it had to have been pretty dire for Snape to come back down and get him after he had already visited for the night. "Alright then." He nodded, lifting his arms in the air. "Let's go."


	9. Chapter 8

Harry was not happy.

 _This isn't at_ all _what I had imagined when he said he would carry me…_

The young Gryffindor's body bumped against the stone wall as they turned a corner, Snape's magic not-so-carefully carrying him through the halls, leaving him to float helplessly behind the two Slytherins. Thank Merlin they were finally almost at the Headmistress' office. "Ow! Watch it, will you!?"

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched as he readjusted his wand to correct his 'mistake.' "Terribly sorry, Mister Potter. It will not happen again, I am sure."

"Yea sure. That's what you said the last three corners..." Harry muttered under his breath, folding his arms with a pout.

"Oh, come off it, Potter. It isn't attractive to sulk." Malfoy was having a grand old time laughing at his former classmate.

Harry threw a grimace at the young Slytherin. "And why would I ever want to be attractive to _you?!"_

"Is there someone else on your mind then? Some other Slytherin, perhaps?"

That caught Snape's attention. _Was_ there someone special in Potter's life? He had never really thought about it until now. He had seen the man around with Weasley and Granger, of course, but it would seem the two had fallen for each other, instead. Of course, there was always the Weasley girl. Yes, he seemed to recall the two of them being an item before the final battle. Or at least, that's what the rumours were.

"...And that time with you and the apple?! What was that about, Malfoy?! Looked like one delicious apple the way you were..."

Blast. He had stopped paying attention and didn't hear Potter's answer...

Snape shook his head to dispel his thoughts. Why did any of that even matter? It wasn't any of _his_ business who the man was with, nor was it the time or place to consider it. He must have been getting soft if he couldn't even keep his mind on the matter at hand.

Thankfully, they reached the Gargoyle Statue that protected the entrance to the Headmistress' tower. Without even waiting for the statue to speak, Snape uttered the password, " _Dougal McGregor_." and stepped onto the revolving steps as they ascended from below ground, bumping Harry's head on the doorway in the process.

"Merlin's balls, Severus, that hurt!"

Snape was so surprised at the sound of his name on the Gryffindor's lips, that he completely lost concentration, breaking the spell and dropping Potter rather unceremoniously on the steps. "My apologies, Potter." He just managed to not say 'Harry.'

He helped the young man to his feet, keeping a hand under his arm to hold him steady as the stairs finally reached the top. Tucking Potter's hand into the crook of his elbow, Snape stepped out slowly, making his normally long strides much shorter so that the younger man wouldn't lose his balance trying to keep up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out a fine blush spreading across Potter's skin, which pleased him more than he thought it should have.

Harry wasn't sure what was going on, but he was feeling a thousand and one emotions. He was apprehensive to find out what all of this was about, but he was distracted by the fact that Snape wanted to walk with him as if they were out for a stroll on the beach. He was embarrassed by his fall, and irritated that it had even occurred, and _mortified_ that Malfoy had been there to witness every bit of his struggle. At the same time, he felt joy that he was with Snape, shyness for some reason? And something else, something stronger and more deeply hidden. "Maybe it _is indigestion_?" He muttered softly.

"What was that, Potter?"

Harry glanced over at Malfoy, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the blonde menace. Malfoy certainly hadn't changed much whilst Harry had been in a coma. His hair was a bit longer, just past his shoulders and beginning to look a lot like his father's, swept back into a clean and tidy pony tail. His face was still sharp and pale, but there seemed to be more life in it than there had been back when they were in school. Harry could understand that, seeing as how Malfoy probably saw Voldemort on more occasions on one day than Harry did in one year. Thinking of it like that, he kind of felt bad for the git.

"By the way, Potter, have you always been this short?"

 _I take it back. I don't feel bad for the slimy son of a-_

"Enter!"

Harry looked up sharply as they entered McGonagall's office, curious to see the changes. Surely things would be very different from when Dumbledore had been in charge. Much to his surprise, hardly anything had changed.

The walls were still covered with shelves of books, the pensieve was still in the same place as it had been when he viewed Slughorn's memories, and – much to his surprise – Fawkes had decided to return. He wasn't much to look at, he almost reminded Harry of a tater tot that his uncle Vernon had gotten for him once when he had been taken out to eat with his cousin, but he knew that in no time at all, Fawkes would be at his most beautiful before growing old and bursting into flames once more to begin anew. Harry didn't think he would ever get used to having a familiar like that.

Thinking about familiars was making him really miss Hedwig…

"Good evening, gentlemen. Is there something I can help you with?" McGonagall didn't seem surprised to see the three men at all, then again, she seemed to always know everything before it ever happened.

"We have a situation, Headmistress. George Weasley is about to embark on a very dangerous venture, and he must be stopped immediately."

Harry looked up at the Potions Master in surprise. George? What happened to George?!

"Please explain, Severus." McGonagall gestured to three chairs that definitely weren't there a moment ago, but Harry was the only one to take a seat. He might not have done so if he had managed to find any more strength to stay on his feet, but he was tired and shocked by what he was hearing, so it was either sit down or collapse, and they already had enough problems without him adding to the pot.

"Mr. Weasley has purchased ingredients for an illegal potion, Headmistress." Malfoy supplied, handing her a copy of the sheet he had acquired from the Department of Mysteries. "One we suspect he is going to use in order to forget the Final Battle, or perhaps just the moment his brother had died."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would George do something so drastic? Sure, he was grieving, they all were, but for him to want to forget everything entirely? And why a potion? Why wouldn't he just Obliviate himself? Why put his own life in danger?

"Have the Weasleys been informed?"

"Not yet. I thought it best to come to you first, and since Mister Potter has a penchant for rushing into trouble before thinking of the consequences, I thought it might be best to bring him into it as well, if only to save us the trouble of piecing him back together a second time."

McGonagall Nodded. "Very well. I shall speak with Arthur and Molly. You take Mister Potter back to the infirmary and prepare him for travel. Mister Malfoy, if you would kindly stay here in case Mister and Mrs. Weasley have any further questions for you."

Malfoy nodded and took a seat next to the fireplace with McGonagall, the two immediately making floo calls to gather the Weasley clan together. Without another word, Snape stepped over to Harry and scooped him up into his arms.

Harry was too embarrassed to say anything as they made their way back to the infirmary and to his bed. Why couldn't he have carried him like this the first time around? It would have saved him some brain damage along the way…

Snape gently set Harry down, his black gaze meeting Harry's emerald green eyes intensely. It was almost as if…

"Well, I suppose I'd better get some clothes on! Can't go around in these now can I?! Hehehe.." He quickly broke eye contact with the older man, afraid that he had tried to use legilimancy on him to know what he was thinking. That must have been what it was, why else would Snape have stared into his very soul like that? Shivers ran down his spine as he replayed it over and over in his mind.

"Mister Potter, you might find it easier to disrobe before you can change into regular clothing...unless you wish to wear layers?"

Harry blushed and turned his back on his professor. "I- I know, I was only waiting for you to look away..."

"And if you fall whilst I am not looking, who will be there to help you?"

"What? I won't fall..."

He could feel Snape's stare on his back, and it was doing things to him that he never thought possible, especially considering his body had been broken into so many pieces that a puzzle master would have had trouble piecing him back together…

"Very well."

Harry peeked over his shoulder at the other man, making sure he had his back turned before undressing. He was attempting to rush it in case Snape decided to turn around after all, but the faster he tried to move, the more he just fumbled around, and the fact that his fingers weren't up to their normal strength yet, really wasn't helping with his buttons. "Bloody buttons! Who would ever wear so many bu-" He stopped himself too late as he realized that Snape probably held the record for most buttons on a single article of clothing.

"Allow me." Snape turned around and stepped very close to Harry, looking down at him with so much intensity that Harry felt like he might burst if he didn't get away, but for some reason, his feet wouldn't move.

His gaze was trapped in Severus' as he felt the man's fingers slowly move down his torso, buttoning up his shirt as he went. Those long, slender fingers would 'accidentally' slip beneath his shirt, lightly touching his bare skin before slipping back out to finish the current button. Harry could practically feel the other man's heart beating through his touch, and it seemed to be pounding as quickly as his own, and judging by Snape's slow, deliberate breathing, he seemed to be under a similar spell that Harry was. Finally, he finished it off by buttoning Harry's jeans as well, giving a gentle, but satisfying tug on the fabric at the end. "We mustn't forget that one." Snape spoke softly, his deep, low voice radiating through Harry's very being. "You wouldn't want anything to...fall out..."

The Gryffindor suddenly felt like he was back in the black lake trying to win the Triwizard cup. It was as if he had run out of air and only just managed to make it to the surface before drowning. Did Snape really have that kind of power? Harry wished he had a dark, looming presence like that...if he could make anyone feel so powerless, he would be able to really change the world into a better place…

Why was he thinking of all of this now?! His thoughts were all over the place when he needed to be focusing on George. His friend needed him, there would be time for all of this later!

He grabbed his jumper, gripped Snape's hand firmly, and nodded. "I'm ready to go, Professor. I promise, I won't be a burden." For now, he would try his best to stay focused on the matter at hand, but later, he would really need to think about all of these things he'd been feeling around the Potions Professor. If things kept going as they were, he was afraid he would do something stupid to alienate himself from the man, and he just didn't think he could handle that.

Focus, Harry!

George now.

Snape later.


	10. Chapter 9

"MY LITTLE GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley broke out loudly into wails of despair, clutching her fiery hair between her fingers as she cried for her son.

Harry awkwardly sat on the Weasley's sofa, his hands on his legs to keep them from shaking. It was one thing to deal with pain on your own, but a whole other thing to watch someone else break down, especially someone as strong as Mrs. Weasley. It _had_ been her who had killed one of the craziest witches in history, after all.

He felt the cushion dip beneath him as Snape sat next to him, much closer than he would have thought the man capable of. Curious, Harry glanced over at him. How does he handle situations like this? The young man's eyes traced every line and curve of his professor's face, searching for even the tiniest of details that seemed out of place. Surely there was _some_ sort of tell tale sign of distress. He wasn't a rock, after all.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mister Potter?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin and turned his face quickly away. "No sir." His heart painfully beat in his chest as he felt the other man's eyes lock onto him with an intensity none could rival. Gathering up his courage, he turned back to Severus and made eye contact.

Had Severus always had such dark, black eyes? Had they always had that spark of life in them? Not that he could remember. It had always seemed his professor had very little will to live, but ever since the war ended, it was as if the man found a new reason to continue on. Was it because he had found someone? Harry's eyes widened slightly. _McGonagall! Are they dating now?! Is that what was going on between them in the infirmary? Merlin's beard!_

Snape's eyebrow quirked as he noticed the younger man's reaction to...whatever it was he had been thinking, Severus supposed. He had never noticed how expressive Harry's eyes were. It was as if all he had to do was look into the man's eyes and he would suddenly be able to see everything that made Harry who he was. He had never before experienced such a feeling, not without using magic, anyway. It was almost...endearing that Potter was so open to him. _Not to me._ Severus thought. _He is open to everyone. What makes you think you're special?_

"What do you think, Snape?"

Severus pulled his eyes reluctantly away from his student and turned toward his speaker. "I apologize, what is it you were saying, Ms. Granger?"

Everyone in the room had their eyes on the pair, all curiously looking from one man to the other. It was clear they had thought _something_ had passed between them, but _what_ was the question.

"I was suggesting we send a letter to George and trace the owl. He had never spoken of where he's been staying, but if an owl can find him, we surely can."

Snape nodded approvingly. "That is an acceptable plan. I suggest we get to it immediately. There is no telling whether or not he has taken the potion as of yet."

"What is it exactly that this potion is supposed to do to my brother?" Ron asked for the hundredth time.

"The idea behind it is simple. George wants to forget what happened during the war. He wants to forget that his brother is gone." Malfoy answered for his professor, attempting to draw the attention away from the two men. It was so obvious that they had feelings for one another. It made Malfoy a little uneasy, but who was he to tell people who they should love? They needed some time alone. Best to get this business over and done with, save the Weasley and get back to the peace they had all worked so hard for. He was so tired of fighting.

"Not that I want him to forget or anything, but why is this such a horrible thing? I mean, why is it outlawed?"

"Oh Ron, do you _ever_ remember a _thing_ we learned in school?" Hermione shook her head at her husband-to-be. "Memory altering potions are _illegal_!"

"I don't remember anything like that being taught..." Ron glanced over at his old potions professor who didn't seem to really be paying attention to the conversation. As a matter of fact, all he seemed to be able to see, was Harry.

"They taught it in our later years, Weasley." Malfoy attempted to help the man understand, without much hope. "After what happened with Lockhart..."

"What happened with Lockhart?"

Draco was starting to lose his patience. "Honestly Weasley, do you not pay attention to _anything_ that isn't Quidditch related?! Lockhart attempted to make a potion to regain his memories after what happened with him, you, and Potter in the Chamber of Secrets. _This very potion._ "

"What did it do?"

Hermione laid her hand on Malfoy's arm to calm him. "Ron, it completely destroyed his mind. He hadn't remembered a thing, he had just forgotten everything about himself. That's why it went from being called a Remember Me potion to Forget Me Potion. Some witches and wizards have tried to alter and complete it, but no one's ever gotten it right...and some have even died trying..."

Mrs. Weasley, who had managed to quiet down during the entire conversation, was suddenly back to panicking and crying.

"George! We've got to hurry!" Ron ran around the room, grabbing random objects only to toss them aside with a frown. "What do we need?! Where are we going?! Let's go, don't just sit there staring at Snape like a love sick puppy, Harry! WE'VE GOT TO GET GEORGE!" He gripped Harry's shirt and roughly pulled the blushing man to his feet, giving him a shake for good measure.

Quickly, Severus jumped to his feet and pulled Harry from Ron's grip. " _Do calm down_ Mister Weasley!"

Harry froze in shock as he was pressed to Severus' chest. He certainly didn't _mind_ being in the man's arms, but the sudden bout of protection was something Harry had not ever expected. Tentatively, he placed his arms around the taller man's waist and rested his head on Snape's chest. _Is this ok? Can I do this?_ He felt Snape tense for only a moment before relaxing again, holding Harry comfortably against his body.

"Well, what are we going to do!?" Ron's panic had obviously not subsided, as he had nothing to say about the two men's positions, and he _never_ would have shouted at Severus Snape of all people.

"Ronald! Sit down!"

Ron instantly sat on the nearest armchair, eyes wide. He had never heard his mum speak so loudly before. "Sorry..."

"We _will_ find George and he _will_ be ok! Now here's what we're going to do! We're going to do as Hermione suggested. Your father is already sending a letter out with a tracer on the owl. Until we get further news as to his whereabouts, you are to go outside and degnome the garden!"

"AW MUM!"

"NOW RONALD WEASLEY!"

"Yes'm..."

With that, everyone dispersed. Hermione to help Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, Ron to degnome the garden, and Mr. Weasley finished his letter to George before heading off to fire call his other boys. Which left Snape and Harry, who were still tightly entwined in each others' arms.

"Harry..?"

The young Gryffindor looked up into Severus' eyes, his heart skipping a beat as he heard his name whispered so softly by the man. "Yes...Severus?"

Snape beat down the urge to blush, but rather enjoyed the sound of his name on Harry's lips. "Are you alright?"

"Yes."

Severus closed his eyes as the rest of his tension released its hold on him. He was afraid the Weasley brat had harmed Harry with all of that shaking about and shouting. "Perhaps...you should go lie down."

Harry shook his head against the older man's chest. "I'll be fine...really. Can we just...stay like this? Just a little while longer?"

"...Very well."

Closing his eyes, Harry allowed his mind to wander. What did he feel for Severus Snape? Was it really only fatherly love, or was it something more? He had never thought about being with another man before, as he had simply gone with what all of his house mates had done and dated girls. There had been other boys around the school dating each other, but he was so focused on staying alive and making it to class on time that he never stopped to think about it. Now that he had time, however, he was pretty sure Dean and Seamus might have feelings for one another as well…

It was an odd feeling, him being in his old Potions Professor's arms. He can't say that he hated it though.

He listened intently to the sound of Snape's heart beating. It sounded so loud, and it seemed to be going faster than it should have been...but he was so glad to hear it. He gripped the man's robes and hid his face against the many buttons of his jacket.

Snape tensed as he felt Harry grip his clothes. Was the man really alright? He did have a habit of hiding his true feelings. How many times had Snape taunted and teased him only to receive nothing but a glare or two when he knew the boy had been itching to call him out on his unfair treatment. Thinking back on it, Snape was a little ashamed of himself for treating Harry so harshly. At the time, he knew it had been necessary, but there were some things that he had said…

Perhaps some day, he could apologize for his actions back then, but he was sure the young man understood why he had been that way. What good would an apology do, anyway? It doesn't erase the bad things that had been done. It doesn't bring people back from the dead. No, apologies were useless. Even so…

"Potter..."

Harry gently pushed away from Snape. "We'd better go see what we can do to help."

For some reason, Snape's heart began to hurt. It was a pain he had felt before, one he never had wanted to feel again. What exactly did he feel for Harry? They couldn't go on like this...he needed to find out, otherwise...He didn't want to lose another Potter.

"Harry..."

"Oh, I'm Harry again?"

Snape was taken aback by the hurt in the young man's eyes. What had he said to make him look like he was going to cry?

"Sorry, ignore me. With everything going on...just forget it. I'm going to go help Ron."

Snape wanted to say, 'You shouldn't overtax yourself, Harry. I worry about you.' but instead, all that came out of his mouth was, "Very well."

He watched silently as the young man exited through the back of the Burrow. He knew it was silly, but watching him walk away like that made him feel like he was being abandoned. _I must find out what these feelings are. I don't think I can handle it otherwise…_

Severus would get to the bottom of it after all of this mess with George Weasley was over. He lost Lily. He would not lose Harry.


	11. Chapter 10

Harry stepped out into the Weasley's garden, his mind running in seven different directions. How does one know if they are gay? He thought back on his previous relationships, if they could be called such. Cho Chang was the first person he had ever been even remotely interested in. What had he liked about her? _Her smile, I think._ Well, he definitely didn't fall for Snape's smile, if it could be called that. Although, the more he paid attention to the man, the more he came to appreciate the small twitch in the corners of his mouth that counted as a Snape smile. _It_ is _kind of cute…_

There he goes again, thinking of Snape as _cute!_

 _I didn't fall for Ginny's smile._ What had it been? _Her kindness._ With all of the negativity and chaos that had surrounded Harry for his entire life, it hadn't been surprising that he would fall for someone so grounded and kind. Could Snape be considered as 'grounded?' Surely not kind...Then again, he had been there for Harry when everyone else had abandoned him...and he _had_ saved his life on countless occasions, probably more times than the young man was even aware of...but was Snape 'kind?' _He is in his own way…_

So Severus Snape is sort of kind and has an... _interesting_ smile. That didn't help him much. _Ron and Hermione are kind, and I look forward to their smiles all the time. I love them both, but not like_ that. Clearly there was more than one way to love someone, but which 'love' was the one he felt for his old Professor?

Harry jumped as he heard a high pitched squeal fill the air, his thoughts scattering in the wind as he caught his friend wrestling with a gnome on Mrs. Weasley's prized carrots. He bit his lip, trying desperately to hold in his laughter. "Alright there, Ron?"

The ginger haired boy craned his neck back in response, a look of intense concentration on his face. "Whotcher, Harry! This one's a biter!"

Harry watched the other man roll around the grass with the creature, grinning at the sight. It was hard to tell from his position on the back porch, but the gnome probably only came up to Ron's knee, yet it was putting up a fairly good fight. The gnome just managed to dodge a heavy Weasley kick, and retaliated with a small, but very sharp bite.

"Yow! You little t-"

"Ron, look out!" Harry broke into wild laughter as his friend was suddenly ambushed by the other gnomes.

"Halp! Someone! Harry! Stop laughing and help me!"

Harry quickly regained his composure and jumped in for the rescue.

As he gripped the last gnome to toss it out into the fields, Ron finally pulled himself back to his feet, his hair in disarray and his clothes...well, they had certainly seen better days.

"Well, well, well, Weasley! You look worse than usual. What, have you been snogging Potter?"

The two young men turned toward the house to find Malfoy and Snape standing on the porch. Harry's eyes were instantly drawn to the older man, who was frowning down at Ron as if he had just been insulted.

Snape glowered down at the red head, clenching the edges of his sleeves in a vain attempt to rein in his anger. Why _was_ he so angry? _If I see Harry more like a son, it would be perfectly understandable, certainly. Yes, that is the most probable cause of these emotions. I'm simply protective._

Even so, thinking of the Weasley brat putting his hands anywhere on Harry was enough to send him into a seething rage. It was taking everything he had just to keep his mouth shut, though it did little to stop the images of the boy's horrible demise from flitting through his mind. His lips quirked into something between a satisfied smirk and a disgusted sneer. Yes, few things in life would be sweeter.

Severus's gaze shifted to the object of his affections. Harry did indeed look a bit ruffled, but it was most likely to do with the gnomes in the garden. Knowing him, it probably hadn't occurred to the young man to simply despell the vile creatures. It seemed that he often forgot he was a wizard, which was understandable, Severus supposed. It wasn't every day that a muggle born child suddenly discovered that they had an affinity to magic, something most non-magical people saw as nothing more than a fairy tale.

He could picture a young Harry Potter, waving a twig around, pretending to perform magical spells only to accidentally set a bush on fire as his innate powers began to manifest. What would those muggle relatives had done to him? _They would have thought he was some sort of mental pyromaniac._ If something like that _had_ ever happened, Snape was sure that the young boy would have rushed into the flaming bush to save any hidden creatures within, even creatures as small as a caterpillar. Gryffindors, they're always so rash, and poor little Harry Potter, with burns all over his hands...

Suddenly, Severus found his feet moving toward Harry, and without a second thought, he lightly placed his hand on the younger man's head and ruffled the already messy hair. "What am I going to do with you?" He spoke just loud enough for Harry to hear.

It was strange, the feeling of a smile spreading across his lips, but it was an overall pleasant feeling. He subconsciously ran his fingers through the other man's hair as he considered all of the new emotions he was being faced with lately.

He jumped slightly as he felt fingers grip his robes from behind. "Erm, Severus, I believe Mr. Weasley has received results with the tracking spell."

Severus swiftly turned toward Malfoy, his hand dropping heavily to his side as he pointedly ignored the emptiness that accompanied the loss of moving from Harry's side. "Indeed."

Harry watched silently as Snape quickly made his way back inside.

"What the hell was that?"

He had completely forgotten that Ron was still there. Turning to his friend, he ran his fingers through his hair, missing his old professor's touch as if he had been gone for more than a few seconds. "Who knows? Maybe he saw my mum in me and reminisced." He shrugged.

Actually, now that he thought about it, that could very well be true. Everyone always told Harry how he had his mother's eyes. Perhaps that's what Snape has been seeing in him that entire time. _Why does everyone look at me and only see other people? Half the time they see my dad, the other half they see my mum. Will anyone ever look at me and just see_ me? He laughed bitterly as he recalled a quote from the _Daily Prophet_ that was written about him during the Triwizard Tournament. _I guess this time, my eyes really_ are _glistening with the ghosts of my past._

"Harry, come on. You heard Malfoy, right? They found George!" Ron patted his old friend on the shoulder, sensing the deep sadness that had begun to radiate from him, but not understanding in the least where it might have come from. Then again, Ron never really understood much as far as emotions were concerned.

Harry nodded and with Ron's help, returned to the sitting room, choosing to sit on the floor near an armchair to avoid having to sit next to Snape. He still wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling for the man, but until he figured it out, it was best to keep a little distance.

Unfortunately, Snape had other plans. Without invitation, he sat down in the arm chair directly behind Harry, stretching his legs out just enough to touch the younger man, sending him back into emotional turmoil.

Did he know what he was doing to Harry? Did he _enjoy_ torturing him? To make matters worse, Harry's body responded without his permission, and leaned back against Snape's legs. Well, he wasn't going to be the one to move, besides, it was quite comfortable. If the Potions Master didn't want Harry so close, he shouldn't have chosen that seat! Or at least, that's what Harry kept telling himself. His heart skipped a beat as he felt Snape's leg move slightly back and forth as if he was rubbing Harry's back. Thankfully, his movements were discrete enough that no one seemed to notice. He didn't want to explain to anyone what was going on between the two of them, especially when he didn't know himself.

 _What am I doing? I need to focus on George!_

"Erm, so Mr. Weasley, did you find him..?" Harry's voice broke a little as he attempted to calm his heart and breathing to more manageable, healthy levels.

"I did indeed, Harry!" The oldest Weasley said jovially. "We've got his address right here!" He tapped the floating notepad that followed him as he sat down on the edge of one of the couches. "It isn't far, and he's probably got his floo blocked, so it would be best if we apparated, I think."

Snape nodded in agreement. "May I also suggest only a few of us go so as not to frighten him? There's no telling what sort of state he might be in, and if he had taken a bad potion, he could also be volatile."

"My brother wouldn't-!"

"No, he's right, Ron." Mr. Weasley held up his hand to stall his youngest son's protests. "We all know George wouldn't do something like that, but potions can do strange things, especially if they weren't brewed correctly."

"They can bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses, remember Ron?"

Snape raised his eyebrow as Harry quoted his very own words. "Quite right, Mister Potter." Again, his body acted on its own as he reached forward and ran his fingers encouragingly through Harry's hair. "Who do you suggest we send?"

"We need you to go, Professor." Harry leaned back and locked his beautiful green eyes with Snape's black. "You know the most about potions, so you would know what to do if something went wrong."

"I must admit, I am quite surprised you hadn't volunteered yourself, first..."

"I want to," The young man frowned as he struggled internally with his instincts. "But I want George to be safe, and if that means I have to stay out of it..."

"Actually, Harry, I think you should be one to go, and perhaps myself." Mr. Weasley interjected. "Of all of us, your magic is the strongest, and of course as his father, I shall represent the Weasley clan." He nodded with finality.

"Hang on, what about me?!" Ron threw up his arms in frustration. "And what about Hermione!? She knows loads of things, and I'm his _brother!"_

Hermione laid her hand on her fiance's arm firmly. "Ronald, don't you dare throw a fit. We need to stay here to prepare."

"Huh!? For what?!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes in exasperation. "If he's injured, he'll need medical aid, Weasley. Honestly, Granger, how do you deal with this?" He turned his back on Ron as the red head jumped to defend himself, certain that Hermione would deal with him. "It would be best if I went as well, if only to tell the Ministry that there is nothing to worry about."

Arthur nodded and held out his arm. He's at a family estate, so I'm afraid you'll have to hold on to me, Mister Malfoy. Severus, you're still keyed in to the wards, but you'll have to bring Harry." And with that, he disappeared, Malfoy in tow.

Severus looked down at Harry, concern evident only in his eyes. "Are you sure you can do this?"

Harry set his face in a determined frown. "I'll be fine. I can do this."

Snape nodded and wrapped his arm gently around the younger man. Slowly, he leaned down and spoke softly into Harry's ear. "Don't let go."

Harry shivered as he felt Snape's breath on his ear, imagining what it would be like to feel those lips on his- wait, what was he thinking?!

Hermione watched the two men disappear with a loud _SNAP!_ She shook her head and crossed her arms against her chest. "They really should just kiss and get it over with."

Ron's eyes grew wide, his head snapping around to stare at his future wife. " _What!?"_


	12. Chapter 11

The four men arrived just outside of George's front door, everyone landing gracefully except for Harry, who lost his balance on entry and would have fallen face first if Severus hadn't been there to catch him. Reluctantly pushing away from the man, Harry pulled himself from Snape's unintentional allure and stepped up to his grieving friend's stoop.

He had to focus.

George probably wasn't expecting any visitors, but surely it would be fine if he just knocked…

He glanced behind at his companions, who nodded reassuringly, then firmly rapped on the door. Harry listened closely for any sounds of movement from inside, but heard nothing aside from their own breathing. Could he be asleep? He tried again, all but pounding. Perhaps he was shopping for supplies.

The young Gryffindor turned to shrug at the older men behind him, but was shoved aside as a body hurled itself at the door blasting it open the old fashioned way. Harry stared in shock as Malfoy picked himself up from the dirty floor of George's home and brushed himself off. Steel blue eyes met emerald green as he shrugged off the new pain in his shoulder. "Guess he's not home."

Arthur was the first to shake himself of his surprise. "Well done, Draco!" Lifting his pant legs to avoid snagging on broken wood, Mr. Weasley stepped into his son's room, scouring the furniture for any signs of life.

Harry felt a hand on the small of his back as Snape stepped past him as well, his touch disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, much to his confusing dismay.

George's living space could barely be called as much. The floor was littered with food wrappers, none of which should be relied upon for any sort of sustenance. Severus could never remember a time that he had to live off of snack food for survival, not even when he was a child living with a broken mother and a drunken father. He stepped carefully over the debris and headed straight for the cauldron at the center of the room to examine its remains. Unfortunately, there was very little left of the potion the young man had been working on.

Harry examined the writing desk, brushing his finger tips along the stray papers and scattered quill nibs. It seemed that George had been working very hard on something for a very long time. The illegal potion no doubt, but Harry also saw evidence of other potions as well, things that would potentially sell quite well in the shop. _Good. He still has a will to live._ That was one thing Harry had been afraid of since hearing about what happened to Fred. He couldn't imagine having a part of himself ripped away like that. Voldemort's Horcrux inside of him was probably nowhere near the same thing, as he was quite happy to see it gone.

Many of the papers had begun to collect dust, a clear indication of a severe lack of habitation. Many were slightly crumpled or ripped in one corner or another, and more still seemed to have been written on and immediately put aside, possibly never to be looked at again. Harry's eyes perused the parchment pieces for any clues, but found very little to work with. One piece described the effects of a new potion, another was a schematic of some kind, and yet another piece was simply a grocery list, which mainly consisted of granola bars.

A small piece of parchment finally caught his eye, sitting alone at the corner of the desk. He picked it up, but found only a few words written on it:

 _Dear Fred,_

 _Mischief Managed._

 _George._

His hand shook as he struggled with the pain and emotions that accompanied those few words. He could feel the despair behind them, and his heart broke for his friend all over again. George must have been drowning in his loss. He saw a man with a lot to offer the world, unable to function with half a shattered soul to guide him.

Harry gently replaced the precious letter, careful not to disturb anything else in the process. "We'll find him, Fred." He whispered quietly. "We'll help him heal." He hoped they would be able to find a way to do just that. It was one thing to heal shattered bones, but Harry didn't know the first thing about healing a pain that ran so deep. Even so, he would do whatever he had to in order to see George smile again.

Malfoy poked his head out of the loo and shook it despondently. "He isn't here. It doesn't seem like he's been here at all at least in the past couple of days."

"We're too late."

All eyes turned to the Potions Master as he gripped the edge of the cauldron, holding in his frustration in a desperate attempt to keep calm. "He's taken the potion already. We're too late." He watched Harry slowly step over to the cauldron and pick up an empty vial that had rolled underneath it. It had once held the Forget Me potion, no doubt, dropped in a confused panic during the after math of the potion's effects. The George they knew was gone. The question was, who was he now?

The younger men glanced at Mr. Weasley, expecting a break down, but the man simply pulled himself up straight and nodded. "Right then. We'll regroup back at the Burrow and figure out our next step." His fingers painfully gripped his son's abandoned bed post, the only tell tale sign of his distress. "We'll find him. It's never too late."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

George stared up at the star-filled night sky, his eyes brushing softly across the constellations. There was something about the stars that he felt he had forgotten, something important, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember. It was almost as if they were calling out to him, somehow. Perhaps he was an alien? That seemed silly, but he felt like he wasn't far off the mark, really. He might not have been from outer space, but there was definitely something different about him, something that made him special...if only he could remember what it was…

Brushing his hands on his pants, he stepped off of the small rock formation and returned to his seat by the fire. "I don't know what's going on." He rubbed his arms for extra warmth and settled back into his thoughts. He remembered very little about who he was, for some reason. He knew he was from a large family, but he couldn't seem to remember any of them specifically. He also remembered attending a school, and of course he knew he was a wizard, that fact hadn't even surprised him, so he wasn't _that_ far gone. "Maybe someone _Obliviated_ me."

A couple of days earlier, he recalled waking up on the floor of some sort of small cottage. His head had a lump, probably from hitting the cauldron he had woken up beside. He remembered being filled with a deep sadness and a lot of anger, and of course he knew his name was George Weasley. That was really about all he knew. Upon that realization, he had panicked and run out, but without any idea of where he lived, he simply ran until he couldn't run anymore, then built a fire and tried to remember what happened to him. Perhaps he had been _Obliviated_ so thoroughly that he had been knocked back into the cauldron and had blacked out. That sounded plausible.

"What do you think, F-"

He blinked at the emptiness beside him. He kept doing that, nearly talking to someone named "F." He had no idea who they were, and he couldn't remember their name, but it must have been someone he talked to quite often. Well, no big deal, he would find them again eventually.

His head perked up as he recalled a memory of a battle. Someone had shot a spell at him…he had been flying with someone, perhaps with 'F,' when a spell had hit him in the ear...He reached up and felt at the side of his head only to discover his ear was missing. Fear shot through his heart as he recalled the man who had given him the wound. "Professor Snape!" That must have been the person who destroyed his memory! George must have caught him making an illegal potion, that's why the cauldron was there, and Snape had shot the spell at him to make him forget! "And he must have taken 'F!'"

He still couldn't seem to remember who 'F' was, but he was sure he would recall with time. George gripped his wand in anger, the same anger and grief he had woken up to, feelings that seemed to be seeped into his very bones. All of his problems, all of his emotions, seemed to come from one source, and he'd bet everything he had that it was all Snape's fault.

"I'll get you back, 'F,' if it's the last thing I do!"


	13. Chapter 12

A couple of weeks had gone by since anyone had seen or heard from George Weasley, but life went on without him.

Harry had finally healed enough to attend classes, thankfully being privately taught by the professors so that he would be saved the embarrassment of being so much older than the other students. There were many things he had to catch up on, not just from his seventh year he had missed, but also from many of the years before that. He had been quite busy almost his entire school career simply trying to stay alive, and hadn't had the time to focus on learning. Hermione disagreed with him, of course, stating that she did just fine herself, but Harry chose to ignore that bit of truth. On his down time, he focused his efforts on finding his friend, but the trail had long since grown cold.

The Weasley clan searched for the young man night and day, including the second oldest, Charlie Weasley. He had returned from Romania to aid in the search, even going so far as to bring a young dragon of his. It was apparently known for its amazing sense of smell, but so far, it had come up empty as well. Nevertheless, Charlie and his family refused to give up. The last thing they wanted to do was lose another Weasley.

Snape had even joined in the efforts. In between his classes and tutoring Harry, he had begun reaching out to old colleagues and students, calling in old favours and even going so far as to play the, 'I saved your arse, now you save mine.' card. Of course, his arse wasn't particularly on the line, but George had a lot of promise as an inventor, and he had a bright future ahead of him that it would be a shame to waste. Also, he felt a little guilty about the whole ear thing. If Severus was completely honest with himself, however, he might also admit that he wanted to find George himself, so that Harry would find favour in him again. For some reason, the young man had since been quite distant, regardless of Snape's efforts to get closer to him. No matter, finding George would fix all of their problems. Well, most of them, anyway.

The Potions Master was about to settle in for the night when he heard a soft knock at his door. He didn't spare a moment's thought on who it might be, as only one person in the entire school had enough bravery to knock on the infamous Severus Snape's door in the middle of the night.

Sure enough, he opened the door to find a somewhat bedraggled Harry Potter staring down at his feet.

Schooling his face to his usual look of boredom, he stared at the young man for a moment, allowing the silence to settle on his shoulders before greeting him. "Mister Potter." He had reverted back to the Gryffindor's sir name, too frazzled by the recent change in attitude to continue using anything more familiar. "What do you want?" He held back a wince in consternation. He hadn't meant to sound so snippy.

Harry stood silently in the doorway, his eyes downcast to the point where Severus couldn't see much more than the man's unruly mop of hair, and then his shoulders started to shake. At first, Severus thought Potter was silently laughing, until he noticed small drops of wetness hitting the floor of his entryway.

All thoughts of decorum were thrown aside as Snape pulled the young man into his arms, shutting the door for their privacy behind him. "Harry, what's wrong?" He asked softly, rubbing Potter's back in an attempt at calming him down.

"I...I c-can't..."

Severus pulled Harry over to his couch, lighting the fire with a flick of his wand, and sat the younger man down. "Take your time, Harry, it's alright. You may speak when you're ready." Severus crouched down in front of him and ran his hands up the man's legs in what he hoped was a comforting fashion.

After a long moment of silence, Harry's silent cries calmed down to small hitches, and then finally nothing. He raised his piercing green eyes to meet the dark, depths of Snape's and shame filled him from head to toe.

"I can't believe I broke down in front of you like that...I'm so sorry." He looked away, his Gryffindor pride vanishing.

Snape shook his head, but said nothing. It wouldn't matter what he said anyway, the man before him was head strong and stubborn as the day was long. He wouldn't respond to placating and molly-coddling, so Snape did the only thing he knew how to do. "Mister Potter, you've broken down more times than your friend's wand. I would think myself quite used to it by now."

Surprisingly, the scathing remark brought a small smile to Potter's face. "You're right. Sorry."

The older man watched as Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair, causing it to look more like he had either been in a row with a Hippogrif, or.. _best not to think of sex at the moment._ Though, he always imagined Harry would be quite the partner to- _No! Focus, Severus!_

Harry stared at Severus, wondering what the man was thinking, but certainly not brave enough to ask. "I'm sorry to bother you so late, Se—er...Professor."

"You may call me as you wish."

"Severus." He said with a nod. "I had been studying- you don't have to look so skeptical, you know! - when suddenly I felt this wave of depression...and the only person I could think of to come to...was you."

Severus met those beautiful green eyes again, and was faced with emotions he couldn't even begin to understand, but he was determined to try. "Is that so?"

Harry nodded and tentatively reached for his Professor's fingers that still lay upon his thighs, but before they made contact, Snape pushed himself up to his feet once again.

"Mister Potter,"

"Harry."

"Harry," He nodded. "If you need company, I will gladly supply you with my own, and you may of course stay the night...if you wish." He could almost feel the other man's blush as he watched it spread across his pale features. "I assume you are able to transfigure your own bed by now?"

Grimacing, Harry took his own wand out of his jeans and transfigured the couch into a bed. "I'm not a child, Severus."

Snape nearly lost his composure, but refused to let his smile see the light of day, even if it was night time. "Very well. Do you wish me to stay with you, or would you rather retire for the night?"

After a moment of thought, Harry stood and wrapped his arms around the older man's waist, pulling him into a gentle hug, completely throwing Snape off guard. "I think I'll be alright now." He spoke softly against the man's many, many buttons.

Their bodies linked together perfectly, in a way that neither man had been prepared for. They had each considered the connection between them to be something akin to a familiar, comforting friendship, but could it be possible there was more to it than that? They had entertained the idea privately and separately that they had some sort of attraction for one another, but neither of them seemed to make anything of it, until now. Was it possible that they really were falling for one another? Should they even risk entertaining the idea?

Severus could feel Harry breathing him in as if he was trying to capture his very essence. He allowed it, for as strange as it was, he quite enjoyed it. Perhaps he truly was falling for the young man, but a part of him just didn't want to believe it. There was too much past between them, far too much hostility. Could it ever really be more? Could he even hope for more? Finally, Severus wrapped his own arms around Harry, keeping his touches light. "Good night, Harry." He spoke into the man's hair, smelling the familiar scent of the Hogwarts shampoo mixed in with Harry's own natural smell of broomsticks and Pumpkin Pasties. He would have to really spend some time with the young man to decide how he truly felt. Until then, what they had between them now was good enough.

"Good night, Severus."

With that, the two released one another and headed to their separate beds, both dreaming of a day when they may share a bed and become something more than just friends.


End file.
